


It's Easier To Pretend

by Winga



Series: Nightmares [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Also case!, Angsty John, Darkdarkdark, I love him so dearly, Other, Poor poor John, dark!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winga/pseuds/Winga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shadows are everywhere but so is Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Easier To Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking this happens like about two months after Real Nightmares. But you can think differently!

# It’s Easier to Pretend

It’s three in the morning. John is staring at the clock. He sits on his bed (he’s alone he’s alone he’s alone) and he stares at the numbers.

The tics and tocs of the clock make music inside of his head and he wonders. But he knows better than to voice his thoughts (he might be alone but he’s never alone, not truly).

He hears someone walking around the apartment and he wonders. He knows it’s not Sherlock, he thinks it might be one of his shadows. He doesn’t really care (if it’s a murderer, he’ll be thankful and Sherlock will just find a new pet), it doesn’t matter anymore. He slips into his bed and under the covers, listening to the steps. It doesn’t even take that long to fall asleep.

**

Surely he should be alerted by the steps.

But he’s used to listening to unknown people around their house.

Sherlock isn’t taking any risks.

**

John wakes up and looks at the time. It’s half past nine, so it must not have been a murderer after all. He shrugs, puts on his clothes and goes to have breakfast. He isn’t surprised seeing Sherlock sitting in the living room, by his computer.

Sherlock knows John doesn’t want to talk to him anymore than necessary. He grins and greets the other man. “Good morning, John dearest.”

John winces and Sherlock can’t keep the glee out of his eyes. John doesn’t see it, he keeps looking away from Sherlock but he does answer. “’ning.” It’s all he manages.

“We’ve got a case.”

John nods and makes tea. It’s almost normal but there’s something wrong in the picture. Not that anyone could see it. He turns to Sherlock because that’s what’s wanted from him.

“A murder. An obsessive and jealous husband killed by his wife,” Sherlock says and he sees something flicker in John’s eyes. He knows he’s playing a dangerous game but he knows he’ll win it. And so does John.

“And, ah, what is so interesting in this case?” John asks eyes gleaming.

Sherlock smiles a predatory smile. “I believe that the husband killed himself.”

John wonders where this is going.

**

He’s thought about attacking Sherlock many times. Tackling him to ground or shooting him in the heart. But he knows the only way he could really manage this would be if he got to do it by surprise. Shadows would be there in less than a minute and Sherlock is quite strong.

He still thinks about it. Wishes it was possible to win this bastard.

**

It’s a weird case. Lestrade is certain the wife is the murderer and tries to argue with Sherlock.

“He wouldn’t – I mean, wouldn’t it make more sense to kill her than himself?” Lestrade asks when Sherlock starts talking about the possibility of suicide. John follows the discussion, he’s interested because he’s pretty sure some of Sherlock’s reasonings must come from inside him, this is so much what he might do.

“Oh you can’t not see it! He found out she was cheating on him. He confronted her and, even though he’s jealous, he’s still afraid of her, he still loves her!” Sherlock says, nearly shouts. “This isn’t a romance turned ugly, well now it is, this was something they both knew since the beginning. She had power over him and she knows it. She knows he loved her, she loves him, too. She argued with him, told him he was seeing something that wasn’t there. He started feeling bad for not trusting her, he wanted to prove himself right and when he couldn’t – it was too much to bear,” he concludes and everyone’s staring at him.

“Amazing,” John sighs and it’s not because it was wonderful how Sherlock got to his point. No, it’s because he had waited to hear something about how he could make Sherlock do this to himself and there was nothing. Sherlock knows, he flashes that smile at him and Lestrade just looks from one to another thinking, not the first time, that something might be wrong.

Then he turns his attention back to the case in hand. “How do we prove this? Did he know she would be blamed?”

Sherlock grins. “Oh that’s the greatest part. He did. This is the ultimate sacrifice. He gives himself believing she will give herself for him because of their love. That she will give her life and not go on because she can’t, not without him. And I don’t know. I’m pretty sure she has an alibi, a real alibi. But I don’t know if he was right.”

“You think she might give the rest of her life away because of him?” Lestrade asks surprised.

John stares at Sherlock. “So this is some kind of Romeo and Juliet? A sick twist at the end.”

“Yes.”

**

He’s getting better and better at acting. It’s like second nature, by now. Really, it’s just another skin he crawls into, the one he keeps on most of the time. When he’s home alone with Sherlock, he lets it drop. Most of the time.

(Anywhere else would be a risk, Mycroft might see and he doesn’t know if he knows and he’s pretty sure Sherlock would make sure he would never repeat the act.)

**

Lestrade lets Sherlock question the woman and he tells Donovan to stay with them whilst he wheels John off to talk with him.

“You’ve been a bit tense for some time,” Lestrade notes.

John nods, no point in lying. He knows Sherlock has a shadow watching him, maybe he’s bugged. “It’s just the work. I’m not getting enough sleep and all that.”

“Want to go for a pint some day?”

It’s risky business, having social life. Still, it would be suspicious to say no because he and Lestrade are something like friends. “Sure, why not.” He smiles at the older man.

The smile’s reassuring and Lestrade claps John in the back. “That’s the spirit,” he says and they walk over to Sherlock who’s still talking to the woman.

“Why?” he asks. It’s almost a comforting voice, John is somewhat reminded of the Sherlock he thought he knew.

The woman has cried. For hours, John thinks, for hours and hours because it was love and she lost the only one she loved. And John thinks she’s just admitted that she killed him.

“I _know_ you didn’t do it. Why are you saying you did?”

John sees her eyes. He sees them and he knows what’s missing. “Shit,” he says under his breath and walks to the woman. Whispers in her ear. Comforting words, others suspect. Truths that no one should know, Sherlock thinks. But it’s neither. And suddenly she nods and wipes her tears (she’ll cry soon enough again).

**

It’s the emotions. Sherlock knows them, handles them like they are tools. But he recognises them. He’s the one who could tell more about this woman than Sherlock and only because he understands the needs she has.

He uses emotions to mask everything under and he knows she does too. Sherlock doesn’t see because he’s so gleeful about the victory.

He hates Sherlock, this much the other one knows. Beneath it all he still adores him too. And that is too much in this nightmare. She had the hate hidden inside of her and it made her feel even more guilty.

He doesn’t explain this to Sherlock.

**

John isn’t surprised when Sherlock grabs his arm right after they’ve entered their apartment. He wonders how Mrs. Hudson never hears anything but then again she probably is a shadow.

“What did you say to her?”

“I told her it’s okay for her to let her anger show. The anger at his death. At the fact he wanted her to give up her life. The anger at everything. She held on to love because she always had, she always had loved him and he her,” John answers and doesn’t pull away from Sherlock.

There’s a calculating look in Sherlock’s eyes. “How did I not notice it?” he mutters and John knows he’s not talking to him, only to himself. Then his eyes are on John. He looks, really looks, and John thinks it’s because he needs to try to see if he’s missed something.

Suddenly he is pushed against the wall. Fear enters his mind. Sherlock stands in front of him, looks down at him and takes hold of his other arm too. He lifts them up and John feels vulnerable. Sherlock smirks and he leans to whisper into John’s ear: “I am going to find out everything about you, you know. _Everything_. All the feelings you are trying to hide, all the thoughts you think you can keep to yourself.”

A shiver runs across John and he closes his eyes knowing Sherlock is serious. More than ever before.

He knows he’s shaking when Sherlock walks away from him.


End file.
